HAPPY NEW YEAR!…Oh, wait, I missed it. Well, I’ve been busy, ok? What? Anyway, Sabrina’s rolling over now, and discovering her feet, Fletcher’s been panhandling in church (more on that later!), and learning to jump and do headstands! I’m having visions of stitches and blood in my future…wait, that could just be Monday. *sigh* No news yet on the department transfer at work, but now it’s looking unlikely to happen for at least 6 months. *sigh* The hours between 4 and 6pm have become the Witching Hour around here. Nobody’s happy, everybody screams, guess they’ll go eat worms…! YCU hurt his back last week, so that’s been fun. Now he’s convinced he’s old and breaking down. He’s 36. I know. I can’t convince him any different. Bless his heart.

So, Fletcher. What can I say about Fletcher? He’s a little hambone, but we knew that already. I walked into the new(ish) babysitter’s house one day to find Fletcher and his little friend Liam both sitting in the bad chair across the room from each other. When I asked what happened, she told me that she’d told them to pick up their toys and they simultaneously threw something at her! He’s learned to hit and throw things when he’s angry now, (I can only assume from the other little boy, we do our best to behave ourselves in front of the offspring) so we’re trying to break that bad habit. So, panhandling. Yeah, my son could make a killing on the side of the road, I tell ya. We went to Sunday School this week and they have a little collection jar there that the kids put their SS offering in every week. They love to hear the coins jingle. Fletcher loves that thing. I can give him 6 pennies and that jar, and he’ll stay occupied all through SS. Yes, I know he’s supposed to be paying attention, but he’s 2. It’ll come in time, right? Anyway, we got there early, and he grabbed the jar first thing. We went upstairs to the devotional and as I was greeting some fellow churchgoers, I looked up and danged if every one of those old men in the Amen Corner wasn’t cleaning out their pockets, giving him change! I’m pretty sure my face went white as I squeaked “My son is panhandling at church!” His teacher said she’d start a collection for the snacks and just let him head the committee. I have new pictures! Look!

and, as usual, it was too good to be true. Tennessee has breastfeeding laws, and I was all excited thinking I could go pump whenever I needed to, and that my employer was required to let me go. Not really. I’m so upset. It says they have to let us have unpaid breaks, but only if it doesn’t disrupt business as usual. So they really don’t have to, because anytime you take a break as an OR nurse, you’re interrupting business as usual because they have to relieve you in a room, or the patient might roll to the room later, etc. Why even make a law if they can’t be more decisive than that? So now, I’m back to square one, trying to finagle time during a busy day without being dependent on my employers to provide it. What happens is I get stuck in a room with no relief, full to bursting, and I just have to suffer because they keep effing firing everybody and they have no help, and the charge nurse won’t come relieve you for a few minutes because they’re too busy “managing”. I need more control than that. I need a job where it’s not imperative that I be stuck and dependent on someone else’s good graces to take care of bodily functions.

I’ve decided to transfer up to the ICU and eventually go to school to become a CRNA. I hate school with a hairy passion, but I hate my job right now worse. I was dreading going back to work, I’m not focused, and I don’t want to be there. I have to force myself to get up and gird my loins for work every morning. You spend waaaaaay too much time at work to be unhappy,in my opinion, so it’s time to do something new.

In other news, Fletcher’s beginning to realize that Sabrina’s not going away. He is not amused. Alas. I have new pictures. My offspring: